


Fog

by Tashilover



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Marijuana, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin tries his first joint.</p><p> </p><p>Based off of a prompt in the CP meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fog

**Author's Note:**

> I've only smoked once in my life (a cigar at my brother's pre-engagement party from three years ago) and have no experience in marijuana use.

Sometimes Douglas wondered how Martin got through school at all. No, he didn't mean he believed Martin was a poor student. As much as Douglas teased him for his extensive (unnecessary) knowledge on aviation, in truth Douglas was quite impressed by him. Never say Martin Crieff was lazy.

That was also his downfall; his overeagerness to succeed. Douglas wondered how many friends Martin really had in school. How hard did he try to make them, to keep them? With that huge mess with the Flap and Throttle, it was surprising how easily Martin fell under peer pressure.

So when Martin walked in on Douglas smoking a rolled joint in the MJN office, it was a miracle Martin didn't start swearing up a storm.

"Douglas!" He squealed, rapidly closing the door behind him. "Jesus Christ, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Douglas shifted more comfortably on the couch. The cushions smelled like almonds for some strange reason. He believed Arthur was to blame for this. He didn't have proof, though. "Calm down, Martin. It's only a little marijuana."

"That's not the point! We're suppose to be flying in an hour!"

"We were supposed to fly. But you know as well as I do..." Douglas paused to take a small puff. "It was cancelled."

White smoke slowly drifted out of his mouth. Red rose up in Martin's cheeks. "Carolyn will see-"

"Arthur already took Carolyn home today. She had a huge headache, the poor gal. So no flight today, no rescheduled flight today, and since I had nothing else planned due to, you know, believing I was going to fly a plane today, I'm going to sit here and relax."

The marijuana wasn't nearly strong enough to affect him. It gave him a slow, pleasant buzz, allowing him to enjoy the silence. At least, until Martin came in.

"You're going to get caught," Martin said worryingly, opening the office door and peering out. "How are you going to cover this smell?"

With incense, Douglas didn't say. He'd already disabled the fire alarm to do so. Fitton airport could only afford a single sniffer dog and he was only brought in on the weekends. The smell would dissipate by then. "You need to relax," Douglas said smoothly. He held up the joint to Martin. "Do you want take a hit?"

"I do not!"

"Alright..." Douglas pulled back and took another small puff. "If you don't want to, you don't have to..."

That should've been the end of that. Douglas was not some school yard bully. He was not going to pressure Martin over this any more than he would pressure someone into drinking or having sex with him.

He didn't know why- it must've been the way he said it or Martin thought he was making fun of him- Martin suddenly came around the table in front of the couch, sat down and held out his hand to accept the joint.

At least that's what Douglas thought he was doing. Martin had his determined, angry face on. It was the face he wore whenever he was trying desperately to win a game.

Douglas raised an eyebrow at this. "I'm not going to give you this so you can throw it away."

"No," Martin said. "I want to take a hit."

"Really?" Douglas sat up. The couch squeaked under his weight. It shouldn't squeak. It was made out of clothe. "You don't have to."

"I want to. Hand it over."

Not entirely sure of Martin's true intentions, Douglas took one last final puff then handed it over.

"Alright..." Martin said, bringing up the joint to his lips. "How do I do this?"

"You do it the same way as you would a cigarette."

Martin blushed lightly. "I've never smoked a cigarette."

"But you've seen it in films, I'm sure. A single puff will do."

There was still hesitation on Martin's part. He kept pressing the joint against the bottom of his lip, almost scowling, unable to take that final step and inhale. Just as Douglas was about to reach over and take it out of his hands, Martin finally took a small drag.

He blew out the smoke gently. He paused. "I don't feel anything."

"You're not this ignorant. You know it takes more than that."

Martin grunted and took another drag, longer this time. He held it for a few seconds, then suddenly burst out coughing, pushing the joint back into Douglas' hands as he struggled to breath.

"Are you alright?" Douglas asked.

"Y-yeah," Martin hacked out in between coughs. His eyes were watering. "Yeah, y-yeah.."

Douglas thought it would go no further. Martin tried it, he didn't like it, and now he'll leave Douglas alone to enjoy his mild high by himself.

Except Martin didn't get up to leave. He sat there, watching Douglas take a few more slow drags, and then held out his hand for another turn.

With one eyebrow raised, Douglas passed it over.

Over the next fifteen minutes they passed the joint between them both, taking turns. Martin still coughed, but after his fifth try, he started to grin and said, "I think I can feel it now."

Congrats on your first drug experience, Douglas didn't say. He finished off the last dregs of the joint. He opened his mouth and breathed outwards in hopes of making a smoke ring. He's never been able to do it and today was not that day. The smoke bellowed out in a shapeless blob. "Humph," he said. "Martin, hand me over that ashtray."

Martin picked up the green-grey ashtray from behind him. He passed it over, and as Douglas sat up lightly to reach for it, Martin moved down and gently kissed him.

It felt good. Soft. Clearly it was a spur of the moment thing because Martin was already muttering apologies. When he tried to move back, Douglas dropped both the ashtray and the burnt stump of the joint, grasped the back of Martin's head and pulled him closer and started kissing him in earnest.

Ever since Helena left, all physical affections Douglas had experienced for the past few months were a few polite pecks from his dates. It felt _amazing_ to kiss Martin, to be kissed _back_. He's missed this.

However, the moment he felt Martin fumbling to undo his shirt buttons, he broke the kiss and breathlessly said, "Wait, wait..."

"What? Why?" Martin tried to move forward to continue.

"Because... because we're both a little unhinged. Not the best place to be when making decisions. Perhaps we should show... restraint."

Martin quirked an eyebrow. "You? Restraint?"

"Later on and we've both sobered up and you..." he licked his lips. "Still want to continue, we can."

They shouldn't have started. Who knew a single joint would have so much of an affect on Martin?

Still, the sight Martin's goofy grin couldn't bring Douglas to fully regret this. "I do," Martin said.


End file.
